


ten thousand volts.

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Sitting, Friends With Benefits, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Erica goes to see Allison at three in the morning, it's only because she's in the mood to sleep beside someone else.  That's it.  Just sleep. </p><p>But that changes as soon as she sees what Allison is wearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ten thousand volts.

**Author's Note:**

> written for Teen Wolf Femslash Week 2015 (although I actually started this about a month ago and just kind of forgot about it until now). set sometime after season 2, vaguely canon-divergent. :)
> 
> unbeta'ed, all mistakes are mine.

Erica can smell electricity.

It's three o'clock in the morning and she's crouched in the bushes below Allison's window. There’s a small collection of pebbles in her hand and every so often, she tosses another one at the glass, waiting for Allison to appear. She would just push the thing open but there’s ten thousand volts coursing through the window frame, ready to flow through her body if she even brushes against the window. 

Sure, touching it wouldn't kill her, but if there’s one thing she does _not_ want to go through again, it’s electrocution.

The longer she stays below the window, the stronger the smell seems to get. It sits heavy in her mouth and nose like ozone. By the time her fingers close around the last of the pebbles, it tastes like there’s a lightning storm brewing behind her teeth. She tosses it hard at the window and, as soon as it bounces off, she gets to her feet. Allison’s obviously fast asleep and, no matter how much Erica is in the mood for sleeping beside someone else, if she sticks around any longer, the electricity is going to make her sick. 

She’s only taken three steps when she hears a noise, hardly audible underneath the low buzzing coming from the window frame. It sounds like someone kicking away blankets; underneath that, she can hear Allison’s heartbeat, abruptly speeding up. Seconds later, almost as quick as a werewolf, she appears on the other side of the glass, outlined in moonlight, a dagger clutched in her hand. Erica doesn’t say anything; she simply raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms across her chest. Finally, the incessant buzzing stops and the window creaks open. 

“What are you doing here?” Allison asks, leaning on the window frame. “I thought you weren’t coming back tonight.”

“I changed my mind,” Erica replies, keeping her voice low. “You got room for one more?” Allison quickly glances back over her shoulder, like she expects her dad to come striding out of the shadows. Erica wouldn’t put it past him; even if the Argent family has turned over a new leaf, that doesn’t seem to extend to Chris’ opinion regarding who his daughter dates. 

Erica wonders if he would change his mind if she told him that, technically, her and Allison are more friends with benefits than anything. Somehow, she thinks that would just make him more infuriated.

“Yeah, come in,” Allison says, pushing her hair away from her face and stepping away from the window. Erica only has to jump a little bit to reach the ledge; although the electricity has been turned off for at least a minute, she swears that her fingertips tingle when she pulls herself inside. It’s only been a few hours since she was last in Allison’s room and she can still smell their intermingled scents, clinging to every corner of the room. Although she really did just come to sleep somewhere that isn’t Derek’s floor, that smell makes her smirk. 

Her smirk only grows wider when she steps further into the room and gets her first glimpse at Allison. 

Allison's hair is a mess, mussed up from sleep. She’s wearing a thin-strapped camisole and shorts. More specifically, she’s wearing _the_ shorts. The pink ones, trimmed with lace, that end halfway up her thighs. The incredibly soft one. The ones that drive Erica crazy. 

“You finally found them?” she asks, sitting on the edge of Allison’s bed and nodding her chin towards the shorts. She hasn’t seen them in nearly a week, when she last peeled them off Allison’s legs and whipped them across the room. 

“Somehow they got under the bed,” Allison says, sliding past Erica and stretching out on top of her covers. Her camisole slides up her torso and even though it’s only been a few hours, Erica has the urge to lean over and run her mouth over all of Allison’s exposed skin. But before she can move in, Allison buries a yawn into the crook of her elbow and rolls onto her side, facing the wall. 

“Do you need pajamas or anything?” she asks, voice slightly muffled. 

“Nope,” Erica says. She sheds her jacket, jeans and boots, leaving them right beside the bed so that she can grab them quickly, just in case Chris or Victoria get suspicious and try to come in. Once she’s down to her tank top and underwear, she lays back down and loops her arm around Allison’s waist. 

“You smell good,” she mumbles, pressing her nose against Allison’s pulse point, where her natural scent is heaviest. It’s mingled with some kind of citrus shampoo and something headier, something Erica suspects is lingering bits of lust from earlier. 

“You always say that,” Allison replies, voice slightly muffled. She shifts slightly, moving closer to Erica, before falling quiet again. 

Erica can feel heat from Allison’s stomach warming her palm, even through her camisole. For a human, Allison always burns extremely hot and she always smells incredible. That, combined with those _damn_ shorts, means that it’s only a matter of time before all thoughts of sleeping have officially left Erica’s head. She tries, she really does; she closes her eyes, buries her face in the back of Allison’s neck and tries to focus on Allison’s regular, strong heartbeat. For a few minutes, she thinks that her efforts might even work. She _swears_ that she can feel her mind slowing down, that she can feel herself sinking under a warm blanket of sleep. 

But then Allison shifts again. She moves her legs slightly and Erica can feel those damn shorts sliding further up Allison’s thighs. There’s no chance of sleep coming back to her now; she’s too hyper-aware of every tiny movement Allison makes. She catches every small hitch in Allison's breath, every minute twitch of her toes or fingers, every quiet sigh. 

She kind of misses when she wanted nothing more than to steal Allison’s boyfriend from her. That was infinitely less frustrating than this. 

“Stop moving,” she snaps, tightening her arm around Allison’s waist. “I can’t sleep.”

“I’m _not_ moving,” Allison snaps in return. Strangely enough, her voice is strong and not muffled, like she hasn’t even begun to drift into sleep. “And I can’t sleep either, because you’re so tensed up. It feels like I’m beside a tree.”

“I’m not tense,” Erica lies, trying to force herself to relax. If anything, she just gets more tense and a frustrated groan slips from her mouth. After a moment, Allison slips out from underneath Erica’s arm and rolls over. Her heartbeat gets a little quicker as she does so and when Erica squints a bit, she can see that Allison’s pupils are larger than normal. 

“It’s the shorts, isn’t it?” she asks. There’s a teasing lilt to her voice and she’s smiling in a way Erica recognizes all too well. They’re starting to wear off on each other. 

“Maybe,” she replies, taking in the way that Allison’s teeth gently clutch her bottom lip. “Is that a problem?” 

“Only if you don’t do something about it. And soon, preferably,” Allison adds, sliding over until her cold toes are brushing Erica’s ankle. “I would like to get _some_ sleep tonight.” 

“Deal,” Erica says, lips turning up into a grin. She pushes some of Allison’s dark hair away from her face before she moves, sliding on top of Allison and ducking her head to press her mouth against Allison’s throat. She can hear Allison’s blood rushing through her veins, muffled only by a few inches of skin and tissue. She can always pick that sound out of a crowd. It’s unique, like Scott’s and Isaac’s and Boyd’s and Derek’s. Even though Allison is the furthest thing from a wolf, Erica has memorized the sound of her beating heart. 

Most of the time, it’s near insufferable. But now, it just makes her own heart beat that much faster. 

Before she can press another kiss along Allison’s neck, Allison’s fingers thread into her hair and pull, tugging Erica upwards. She could resist, if she wanted to, but she’s more than happy to go along with what Allison wants, especially when Allison meets her halfway, lips already parted. She tastes like toothpaste but underneath that, on the tip of her tongue, Erica can still taste remnants of herself, from earlier in the night. Allison’s teeth scrape along Erica’s bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and her fingers brush over Erica’s shoulders, where there would be scratches if it weren’t for her healing. Erica groans again and drops her hand to Allison’s waist, sliding her camisole up so that she can better run her fingers over the soft skin above Allison’s shorts. When she brushes her thumb over a spot by Allison’s hip, Allison makes a strange noise, somewhere between a pained hiss and a gasp. 

“What was that?” Erica asks, running her thumb over the spot again. 

“You left a few marks earlier,” Allison says between her teeth, digging her nails into Erica’s shoulders.

“Did I?” Erica murmurs, leaning back onto her knees and pushing Allison’s shirt further up, to the bottom of her ribs. In the moonlight coming through the window, she can see a few dark splotches along Allison’s waist, fresh bruises staining her pale skin. Erica wishes she could take a photo of them but for now, she settles on grinning and using her nails to trace one of the larger bruises, right underneath Allison’s navel. This time, Allison full-on moans, back arching off the bed. 

“Might want to be quieter, princess,” Erica smirks, running both of her thumbs along Allison’s hip bones, “unless you want to be caught.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Allison snaps, sitting up and pushing Erica backwards. Erica takes the hint and moves, sitting up straight and pulling Allison into her lap. Allison tears her camisole over her head and in the few seconds before she leans back in, Erica spots more dark bruises along Allison’s ribs and the swell of her breasts. 

Erica has to admit, she’s pretty damn proud of her handiwork. 

Allison kisses hard and frantic, like she’s afraid her parents are going to walk in at any moment. Even with werewolf stamina, Erica has to pull away a few times to grab a quick breath. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. She gives as good as she gets, brushing her thumbs against Allison’s nipples, occasionally pressing her teeth against the smooth, bare line of Allison’s shoulders. By the time Allison pulls back, hands fisted into Erica’s hair, the room smells so thickly of want that Erica can almost taste it. 

“Lay on your back?” Allison’s words are firm but Erica still catches a note of hesitation, a note that makes the words a question, not a statement. Thankfully, she’s more than okay with what Allison is asking for and she nods, catching Allison’s bottom lip in her teeth one last time. 

“Of course, princess,” she says. Allison rolls her eyes and points to the head of the bed. 

“Shut up.” This time, Erica successfully bites back a retort. Instead, she strips off her own shirt and bra before she does what Allison asks, laying back against Allison’s pillows. Allison steps off the bed long enough to shimmy out of her shorts. She isn’t wearing anything underneath and Erica grins, pressing the heel of her palm against the front of her underwear. 

“Get up here,” she says, reaching her hand out so that she can pull Allison back onto the bed.

“Gladly.” Allison slides up Erica’s body, tracing her fingers over the seam of Erica's panties before she moves further up the bed. They’ve done this so many times that there’s only a few seconds of awkward shifting around before both of them are comfortable. 

“Okay?” Allison asks, still holding herself up on her knees above Erica’s face. Erica nods and brushes her fingers against Allison’s clit before she wraps them around Allison’s thighs. 

“Don’t leave me waiting,” Erica replies, tilting her head up slightly. Allison doesn’t respond to that verbally; she simply lowers herself until Erica doesn’t even have to move to brush her tongue against Allison’s wet skin. She takes a deep breath through her nose and moans, pulling Allison down even closer to her. After only a few moments of soft moans as Erica drags her tongue from Allison’s entrance to her clit, Allison sets the pace. She leans forward and grabs the headboard before she starts rolling her hips down against Erica’s face. Erica’s mouth and chin are already soaked and she can feel herself growing wetter with each passing moment. Between Allison’s smell and taste and the feeling of her hips grinding hard against Erica’s mouth, it’s nearly sensory overload. 

Erica’s _really_ glad that the full moon was last week. 

The faster Allison moves, the more the headboard squeaks. Erica half-listens for the sound of someone stirring down the hall but mainly, she focuses on the sounds that Allison makes. Her breath keeps hitching and the harder she rolls her hips down, the more she gasps and bites back curses. Erica can tell that she’s getting closer; she can smell it, somehow. She increases the pressure of her tongue in return, flicking it against Allison’s clit in a steady rhythm. Beneath Erica’s palms, she can feel Allison’s muscles convulsing and relaxing underneath her pale skin. 

“Oh God,” Allison gasps. A few seconds later, Erica catches the faint scent of fresh blood, which tells her that Allison has just bitten her lip. Erica groans and tightens her grip on Allison’s leg, increasing the speed of her mouth. When she opens her eyes again, she’s seeing through the eyes of her wolf. Thankfully, both her claws and fangs stay sheathed. Allison gasps again and one of her hands drops from the headboard to tangle into Erica’s hair. It makes her change angles slightly and Erica takes advantage of it by moving one of her hands around Allison’s thigh, until she can slide one of her fingers into Allison’s body. Allison’s reaction is immediate and visceral; she tosses her head back, entire body stiffening, hips stuttering to a stop as Erica licks her through her orgasm. Her grip tightens in Erica’s hair, like she’s using her as a life raft and a string of breathy whispers leave her mouth, some in English, some in French. 

Eventually, Allison’s hand drops from the headboard and she brushes wayward strands of Erica’s hair away from her face. There’s a sated grin on her face but there’s also a feral edge to it that makes warmth spread through Erica’s entire body. Before Erica can say anything, Allison slides down the bed and tugs Erica’s underwear off. The cool air feels heavenly on her warm core and she’s already so wound up from feeling Allison fall apart against her. When Allison’s index finger brushes along the inside of her thigh, Erica twitches and spreads her legs further. The next brush is right against her clit and this time, Erica twists her fingers into the sheets and gasps out _fuck._

“You have to stay quiet,” Allison says, leveling Erica with a glare as she leans over. When her warm breath brushes over Erica’s core, goosebumps break out all along Erica's legs. “You _have_ to.” 

That turns out to be much, much easier said than done, especially when Allison leaves bruises on the inside of Erica’s thighs and crooks two of her fingers inside Erica's body. But even though Erica fails to muffle most of her noises, there’s still no sign of Chris or Victoria waking up. After she comes down from her orgasm, Erica thanks God for small miracles and falls asleep with her arm loosely looped over Allison’s waist and her nose pressed against Allison's neck. 

She wakes up to sunshine, chirping birds and the heavy sound of Chris Argent’s footsteps coming down the hallway. She manages to steal a kiss from Allison, get dressed and jump out the window before he opens the door, but she’s still close enough for her to hear what he yells at his daughter. 

“Really, Allison? _Another_ werewolf?”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
